Pulp Fiction
by PBWritesStuff
Summary: The day finally comes, when Gumshoe leaves the force, and of his own free will, no less. Edgeworth is surprised to run into his old partner at his favorite book store, but is flabbergasted to learn that the former detective is also the author of his new favorite detective stories. Kokomitsu/Gumworth


Turns out pal, I'm a lot better at writing mysteries than solving them. Heh! Who would have thought?"

The day finally comes, when Gumshoe leaves the force, and of his own free will, no less. Edgeworth is surprised to run into his old partner at his favorite book store, but is flabbergasted to learn that the former detective is also the author of his new favorite detective stories. But come to think of it, don't the main characters of Gumshoe's stories remind him of someone?

. . .

"'So with this final piece of evidence... I can finally bring that man to justice! The man who killed my father!' Prosecutor Niall Worthington exclaimed, adjusting his glasses so that they glinted in the light. He turned to Cliff Magnus, the man who'd made it all possible, and gazed at him with a fond, far-away look in his eye.

'And it was all thanks to you, detective.' Worthington sighed, a light blush coloring his pale skin.

'Aw shucks, it was nothing pal. I was just doing my job.' The detective paused, and looked into the silver glint of his partner's eyes. He had finally completed the case he'd been hired for, three years ago, and after this, they would never cross paths again. After three years of working together, almost half a decade of ups and downs and laughter and tears, could Cliff Magnus really give up on this prosecutor so easily?

No, no he couldn't.

The private eye leaned down, looked Worthington in the eye, and pressed his lips to the prosecutor's mouth, passionately, possessively. Cliff had grown attached to this brave seeker of the truth, and all the rules be damned: the detective would have him."

When someone knocked on the door, Edgeworth hastily closed the book, shoving it into his desk as he adjusted his cravat and wiped the expression of wonder from his face.

"Come in." He stated calmly, all embarrassing paperbacks stashed away.

"Hi there, Mr Edgeworth, sir!" Ema Skye announced, as she produced a plastic bag from her pocket, and set it on the desk. "I got the evidence back from forensics, and the blood matches up with our victim."

"Ah, so the letter opener is the murder weapon after all. Thank you, Ms. Skye." Edgeworth replied as he took the evidence to file it away. Ever since Gumshoe quit, three months ago, things down at the precinct had been going more smoothly than ever. Ema Skye was the prosecutor's new partner, and while he didn't quite trust her the way he'd trusted Gumshoe, she was, at the very least, pleasant to be around. She was efficient, and only mildly annoying.

Sometimes, Edgeworth wondered where Dick was now, and if he was happy. He would never tell a soul for as long as he lived, but that man was the reason for his reading of trashy detective romance novels. Not that he cared about the romance part (despite the fact that he was visibly flushed just recalling it), no, Edgeworth read the Cliff Magnus series because the main characters reminded him of himself and Gumshoe, and darn it if he didn't miss the big lug sometimes.

But then he remembered the "473 Days Without A False Accusation" sign down at the precinct, and didn't miss Gumshoe one bit.

. . .

Once Detective Skye left, Edgeworth finished his novel and his paperwork. At the end of the day, he was excited to go back to the bookstore and pick up the newest volume. Apparently, despite the fact that Cliff had found the killer, he couldn't bear to part with the prosecutor, so the two were a mystery-solving team now.

If he had been thinking straight, Edgeworth might have been irritated that the fictional prosecutor had a name that was similar to his own. He noted the similarity of course, but instead of questioning it, he ended up thinking that "Worthington" seemed very much like the sort of name a smug prosecutor would have.

He mused about it on his way to the bookstore, where he was greeted by quite a ruckus. Apparently they were getting the new shipment of Jack Falcon books today, and detective fans were flocking out in droves, not unlike himself. Falcon was, of course, the author of the series Edgeworth had been reading. It was an obvious nom-de-plume, but who wouldn't use one, when writing such sordid adventure stories? The fans were adults of all ages and gender, and as he waited patiently at the back of the line,  
the woman in front of him turned around and grinned.

"So you're here for the books too, huh? Nice costume, by the way."

Edgeworth was about to comment that these were his normal clothes, but then he remembered Niall Worthington wore a cravat and suit, so it wasn't too farfetched to believe he was cosplaying.

"You strike me as the kind of guy who likes Cliff, right?" The woman asked, a little too friendly for Miles' tastes. How did someone even respond to that? He did * _sort_ * of like Cliff, but only because he reminded Miles of Gumshoe. Not that he liked Gumshoe either, mind you. But Cliff Magnus was a fictional character, and Miles Edgeworth refused to fall in love with an imaginary boyfriend, no matter how Gumshoe-like he may be.

"The foolish dream of a foolishly foolish fool." Franziska would say.

Speaking of Gumshoe, Edgeworth thought he saw a familiar silhouette at the far end of the room. When said silhouette dropped the box of books he was carrying, to wave hello with both hands, Miles knew he wasn't mistaken.

"Hey there, pal! Long time, no see!" Dick exclaimed, the retrieved box of books now balanced on his shoulder. Miles was vaguely reminded of Gumshoe's years as a mover, and wondered if he was back to heaving around heavy boxes, now that his detective career was out the window.

"What brings you here, Dete- er, Gumshoe?" Miles caught himself before he called Dick "detective" again. It happened almost every time they ran into each other, and Edgeworth had the feeling that if he uttered that word here, the room would erupt into a powder keg.

"Just delivering these books to my favorite shop! Every time a new run comes in, I make sure this place gets 'em first!" Gumshoe lowered his eyes and glanced around, before grinning at Miles, who stared back, nonplussed.

"Follow me, pal! I got something to show you!"

Despite the nagging suspicion in his gut, Edgeworth decided to follow Gumshoe. The man might have been an incompetent detective, but he was certainly a good friend. He followed the man into the back room, where Gumshoe burst into laughter.

"Oh wow... You don't know how hard it is to keep up the act out there!" Gumshoe exclaimed, clutching his abdomen.

"The... act?" Edgeworth asked, confused and incredulous.

"Yeah, pal! Lemme ask you something, if you were a famous author amid a sea of adoring fans, wouldn't you keep your name and face a secret?"

"Er, no?" Edgeworth replied, brows furrowed. "If I was a famous author, I imagine the fans would be the reason I was writing."

"But what if they weren't, Mr. Edgeworth?" Gumshoe laughed, relishing the novelty of being in the know, while Miles floundered in the dark. "What if they only wrote for the money, and the fans secretly creeped the author out?"

Who would write such vivid detective stories (no matter how romantic they might be), and not take credit? Who would take up writing, only to make money? The obvious answer was: someone who needed cash, and quickly. Someone whose only hope was a love of detective stories and a lifetime of experience.

Someone like Dick Gumshoe.

"Surprise, pal! I'm Jack Falcon! I got the name from my favorite detective story of course."

Of course he had.

"Richard. Your name, Dick Gumshoe, literally means 'detective detective'. HOW did you imagine a psuedonym more made-up-sounding than your actual, legal name."

"Um... it wasn't _that_ hard..." Gumshoe deflated, and Miles thought of something else he'd wanted to ask, now that he knew.

"Niall Worthington is based on me, isn't he!?" Edgeworth practically screeched, and Gumshoe mimed for him to quiet down.

"Ack! Not so loud, pal! It's a secret, remember!"

"It IS true!" Miles gasped, and continued in a quieter voice. "And you're Cliff Magnus, then! And the stories are all based on your real-life experience as a detective!"

"Um, it's not all THAT simple..."

Edgeworth frowned. There was something he was missing here, something important... Miles was the prosecutor, Dick was the detective, and the stories were based on real life events that had happened between them. His mind flickered back to the passage he'd read this morning.

"The private eye leaned down, looked Worthington in the eye, and pressed his lips to the prosecutor's mouth, passionately, possessively. Cliff had grown attached to this brave seeker of the truth, and all the rules be damned: the detective would have him."

"Y-y-you said w-w-we k-k-kissed?" Edgeworth sputtered out, face as red as a tomato.

"No, not you and me! The characters!" Gumshoe exclaimed, but Miles was in rebuttal-mode, and shouted "Objection!".

"You said the stories were based on your experience! That k-k-kiss never happened!"

"Just listen to me, Mr. Edgeworth!" Dick pleaded, but a flustered Miles just shook his head.

"Objection!"

"Overruled!" Gumshoe shouted right back, and Miles was so shocked he forgot for a moment that they weren't actually in a courtroom, and let the man explain.

"The books weren't selling so great, you see? People just don't enjoy classic private eye stories anymore." Gumshoe explained quickly, before Edgeworth could object. "My editor suggested I add a romance element to the story, so instead of just being about a detective and a prosecutor, we could also have an odd-couple thing going on. Turns out, that was just what the doctor ordered, and the things have been selling like hotcakes since then!"

"So it was just your editor's advice..." Edgeworth clarified. _And you haven't been harboring a secret crush on me, then?_

"Yep, you betcha, pal!" Dick exclaimed, eyes bright and cheerful. "Even you read them, right? That's why you're here today, huh, Mr. Edgeworth?"

"Um... yes. I just finished _Double Jeopardy_ , and I was hoping to pick up the new one."

Gumshoe grinned even more (if that was possible), and handed Miles a book out of his big box, like a beardless Santa Claus.

"Here pal! Take an advanced copy of _The Girl With The Crow Tattoo!"_ The man exclaimed happily.

"A-are you sure? I could just pay, like everyone else..." Miles ventured, but Richard shut him down immediately.

"No way, pal! What's the use of being a famous author, if I can't give my old partner a book on the house? After all, you're as much a part of this as I am."

He supposed so, given that his alter-ego was now the secondary main character of the series. It was a disturbing idea to think about: Gumshoe with money. He had been so broke, for so long, Miles thought that it might be breaking some kind of natural law.

"Just, um, don't ask for royalties, pal. I need all the money I can get." Gumshoe earnestly requested.

"You lived on ramen and Vienna sausages for all the time I've known you, dete- _er,_ Dick. What could you possibly need the money for? Not that I would actually ask for royalties, just out of curiosity."

"Well... Remember Kay Faraday?" Gumshoe grinned, and Miles could feel a migraine coming on. He just felt the trouble in his bones.

"Well, she's going to college now, and in exchange for being my editor, I'm paying her tuition!"

What a thoughtful thing to do, Miles thought, imagining the uncle/niece-like dynamic they had. He still remembered how Kay called his partner Gummy, and goofed off with him when they should have been investigating. He knew that Kay wouldn't accept any charity, so Gumshoe had given her a job to make it fair.

Suddenly, the pieces clicked together in the puzzle of this whole messed up situation.

"You mean to tell me..." Edgeworth began, a dark aura forming around him. "That the editor who suggested you write our characters as lovers... was _Kay Faraday?_ "

Kay Faraday. Her biggest crime so far was pretending to be a thief, and now, he was going to have to _murder her_. What a shame.

"Heh, gee, Mr. Edgeworth. You look like you're about to go off and kill someone."

"She should be so lucky." Miles replied, and Gumshoe was practically sweating bullets. Edgeworth shot him a side glance, and raised his eyebrow.

"Is there something you want to tell me, Richard?"

"Nope. No way. When have I ever lied to you?" Dick replied, a bit too quickly. It was true that he was mostly an honest man, but there were a few occasions...

"You only lie when you're protecting Kay. Right, detective?"

"Argh! You got me, Mr. Edgeworth!" Gumshoe cried, dropping his books in the most dramatic way possible, a guilt-ridden expression. If he were a video game sprite, this would be his  
 _Oh no, I'm caught!_ expression.

"Kay's just my editor! She suggested I add in a romance subplot but she didn't say it had to be between the main characters! Niall Worthington wasn't even slated to come back in the sequel!"

"... What... does that mean, exactly...?" Edgeworth asked, still oblivious to it all.

Gumshoe sighed. He'd been daydreaming and hint dropping for all the years they'd worked together. Then he went and _wrote a book about it_ , and Miles _STILL_ didn't get it.

"When Kay suggested I add the romance stuff, I had no idea what to do. I told her I didn't have a lot of luck with love, and I could only write what I knew."

Edgeworth was just itching to shout "Objection!", but he held his tongue to let Dick finish his explanation.

"But Kay looked at me with this shocked expression and said * _she_ * thought we were together from the moment she met us!"

"P-preposterous! Is that how we look to people?" Miles asked, incredulous, to no one in particular.

"Apparently... Kay said the 'sexual tension' really showed in the manuscript, and I should work with what was already there..."

"Y-you mean..."

"I really like you, Mr. Edgeworth!" Dick shouted, and it was loud enough to rattle the glass in the window panes. It was so loud that Miles was _certain_ the fans outside had heard, and he was _mortified_.

"I'm so sorry! I just thought it would make the books sell better, and it did! I thought that maybe if I just got all these feelings out on paper, I could get over you!"

"Why didn't you just confess, like a normal person!?"

"Because I'm a cowwwarrrrd!" Gumshoe cried, shoulders drooped. "And now that you know the truth, you're probably gonna hate me forever, and elope with Phoenix Wright!"

Dick was more distraught than Miles had ever seen him, and that was saying something, because they'd both seen each other at rock bottom before. Edgeworth wanted to do something, anything, to remedy the situation, so he did something that, in hindsight, was a snap decision, and which Franziska would later call "the merging of two utter fools in foolish romance."

The prosecutor grabbed Gumshoe by the tie, pulled him close, and pressed his lips against the author's mouth.

It was scorching, the kiss of two men whose attraction ad kept them apart for fear of judgement and workplace shenanigans. It was the culmination of two people who were separated by money, time and social class - a kiss of finally, finally, getting what they wanted. When they pulled apart, locking eyes, Dick looked as flustered as Miles felt. He kept it together though. He had one last point of logic to present.

"I would never choose that exuberant lawyer over you, Richard. Do you know why?"

"Er, why is that?"

"Because Phoenix Wright is not my type." Edgeworth practically purred, his heart beating a mile a minute as he tightened his grip on the former detective's tie.

"I find I've fallen for a certain burly detective with big brown eyes."

Dick's eyes widened, as if he was afraid to admit it out loud. He waited with bated breath to hear Edgeworth's reply.

"You, idiot." The prosecutor rolled his eyes and pulled Gumshoe down for another kiss.

 **Update: formatting fixes.**


End file.
